


Szeretlek

by TuppingLiberty



Series: With Love in Mind [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Enthusiastic Consent, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Pining, Preview, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 08:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18517348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: Szeretlek: 'I love you' in Hungarian.I fully intend on writing how Clark and Istvan from With Kink in Mind met, fell in love, etc, etc. But this, this is just some piney, rough smut. At this point, Clark and Istvan are fuck-buddies, scene partners. Clark definitely wishes they were more, though.Clark and Istvan first appeared in With Kink in Mind, part 2: Summer, as background characters in Alan and Graeme's story. But then I fell in love with them, too.





	Szeretlek

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is just a preview of a chapter in a larger piece of work, please assume that Clark and Istvan have had the talk: re: preferences, will/won'ts, hard limits, etc, already, as well as being tested, because they don't use a condom. 
> 
> Also in my brain: "Isti" is pronounced "East-ee"

Clark is up to his eyes in paperwork for the restaurant when the text from István comes. 

**István:** Sooooo was today shitty for anyone else or is it just me? 

A smile tugs at Clark’s lips, and his heartbeat quickens. Silly, when Isti is just a fuck buddy, but he can’t seem to help it. 

**Clark:** Not just you. Majorly shitty

**István:** I could get out of my head a little, you know? ;) ;) ;)

It’s also silly how much he loves how many extraneous emojis István uses to get his points across. And Clark has known since practically day one what that wink means.  


**Clark:** I’m home

**Clark:** Come over ;)

**István:** Fuck yes

 

Clark’s just finishing tidying up his apartment when István texts him to buzz him up. He’s way too ready for the knock on his door and yet it still makes him jump, and reach for the knob as quickly as possible. “Hey,” he says, letting out a little breath as István barrels in. He looks amazing, as always, even though he’s just wearing a purple hoodie and bright green yoga pants. His eyeshadow picks up both colors without being too dramatic - not that he minds István’s more dramatic looks at all. 

God, he really has it bad. 

Isti gives him a pair of cheek kisses, then swipes his thumb at the shadows under Clark’s eyes. “You sure you’re up to this? You look tired, sweetie.” 

Just being in István’s presence seems to help relax him, and he shakes his head. “I need to get out of my head too, it turns out.” He nods at István to sit, then brings him a glass of water and sits beside him, their thighs touching. Clark likes to warm his subs up slowly. “Tell me about your day.” 

István rubs his face, groaning. “Okay, well, I’m about ready to fucking quit, I swear, my boss is so fucking homophobic.” 

Clark frowns, bringing one of István’s hands up to start massaging it, letting István get used to his touch. Isti is pale compared to him, a contrast to his wardrobe and his makeup. “Is there anyone you can report him to?” 

“Like corporate will listen.” 

“Take a sip of water, Isti.” Clark smiles when he does. “Good job.” 

The praise raises a faint flush on István’s cheeks, one that Clark absolutely adores. He leans in, cupping behind István’s head and bringing them together in a sweet, slow kiss. It’s everything he’s feeling, all these stupid emotions that keep getting in the way when he’s in István’s presence. István hums, opening up beneath him, and Clark slides into his lap, straddling him and taking the kiss deeper. 

István’s eyes are already hazy and lust filled when Clark pulls back, but Clark can sense the slight hesitation in his face, his body. “What do you need?” 

István trembles beneath him. “I want- God, you’re so fucking perfect, Clark, please don’t think otherwise, but I want-” One of István’s hands digs into his hip. “I want to  _ feel _ it. I want you to fuck me. Hard. Rough. I want you to use me.  _ Fuck _ me.” 

István’s words go straight to his dick, pressing against his fly uncomfortably. Clark squeezes István’s neck again and pulls him forward, more roughly this time, biting into his lip. 

Because fuck if the irritation of all the paperwork of the day, all the traffic, the mountains of phone calls he’s had to deal with - fuck if all of that doesn’t make him want to do exactly what István’s asking for: take everything offered and more. Yeah, this is definitely a role play he’s in the mood for - as if he wouldn’t be in the mood for anything his sweet, sweet Isti wanted to do. 

“What’re your safe words?” 

“Green for go, yellow for slow, red for stop.” 

“Good. Use them if you need to use them.” He tugs on the brown hair at the nape of István’s neck and whispers his lips over István’s ear. “Want me to use your hole? Such a dirty boy, Isti. I bet you wouldn’t even care if you came tonight, just so long as I plug you up nice and tight?” He bites down on István’s ear lobe, eliciting a moan from István.

“Yes-use me-” István manages before Clark captures his mouth again. 

“Nuh-uh. Holes don’t talk, except for safe words. Don’t make me have to gag that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“Maybe you should make me shut up,” István offers up, ever the fucking brat. 

“Maybe I should give you five swats for impertinence. Go to the bedroom and strip. If you don’t follow orders promptly, I’m not sure I’ll do anything more than jerk off tonight and leave you wanting.” 

István lets out a shocked little gasp and presses his lips together as if he doesn’t dare disappoint Clark now. Clark lets him up, then watches István scramble for the bedroom. It’s never a hardship to watch that perfect bubble ass in yoga pants. 

He saunters back at a more leisurely pace, taking his clothes off and letting them fall where they may. By the time he reaches the bedroom, he’s naked, his precum-wet boxer briefs balled in his hand. 

He’s almost sad to see that István is attempting to curry his favor by kneeling, naked, by the bed. He’d have enjoyed a good punishment. 

Without preamble, he slides his fingers into István’s already messy hair and rests the head of his cock at István’s lips. “Open up,” he orders, and István’s lips part easily, his eyes almost worshipful as he looks up at Clark. 

He likes the height reversal, likes István having to look up at him, even though he doesn’t mind being shorter normally. Especially when Isti’s towering in heels, he’s almost a full head above Clark. It makes it all the more fun to pull him down for a kiss. But he likes this now, István on his knees for him, watching him. 

He starts slowly, mostly to torture István, who’s vibrating with impatience, but also to give him a chance to warm up. István’s tongue swirls around the scant inches he’s given him, eager to please, eager to move on and take more. The attempt at control makes Clark tug at his hair. “I’m in charge,” he growls, yanking out to István’s whimper. 

_ “Please-” _ István gasps out, and his voice is already slurred from slipping into subspace. The fact that he so readily and easily goes down for Clark is one of the many reasons Clark loves him.  _ “I’ll be good, please-” _

Clark shuts off the plea by pressing his cock inside again, giving him a little more. “God, just fucking like that. Such a good, warm hole for me.” 

István opens wider in anticipation, but he’s yielded control to Clark now. For a few precious moments, Clark just sits there, letting István warm his cock. Slowly, he presses deeper, watching István watch him. It’s a long, slow slide, but Clark can feel it the  _ second _ István swallows around him. István’s drooling unabashedly, and Clark counts the seconds he blocks István’s airway before pulling back a little to let him breathe. There’s something so fucking powerful about István allowing him to control his very  _ breath _ \- as if István would let him control his heartbeat if he could. 

“If I push you too hard, this is your signal,” he says, showing István a hand symbol that he can make easily where his fingers are gripping at Clark’s thigh. Even though breath play is on István’s  _ Yes, Please! _ list, Clark wants to take it slowly, be as safe as possible. He doesn’t start to push forward again until he gets István’s nod, and a replication of the signal on his thigh. 

It’s overwhelming, that amount of trust, how good it fucking feels - combined with the fact that István gives world class blowjobs - Clark’s racing to the edge before he can even process it’s happening. He groans, squeezing his fingers around the base of his cock even as he sinks in again. 

Holding in István’s throat, and watching István’s eyes, his reactions, watching his every quiver and tremble, it lets Clark focus on something besides how fucking good he feels right now, and he feels himself take a step back from the edge. 

István’s holding him perfectly, his mouth undulating as he tries to swallow every so often, but otherwise, just letting Clark do what he wants. Clark keeps testing István’s limits, adding seconds each time he pushes back in, until István’s eyes are watering, smudging his eye makeup in the most beautiful way. Clark can’t help but swipe at the tears on his cheeks with his thumb, even as he pushes, pushes István’s time farther. 

When István’s eyes fall shut, when he completely surrenders himself to Clark, that’s when Clark pulls out and pulls István up. István’s panting, trying to breathe steadier now that he can, and he’s easily manipulated up onto the bed. 

István immediately assumes the position, head down, wiping his tears into Clark’s bed sheets even as he pushes his hips up and back to spread his hole. Clark takes two seconds to grab lube before he’s parting István’s ass cheeks, finding the little pucker that opens so readily for Clark’s fingers. 

It’s rough, they’re both too far to the edge for patience. István keens the moment Clark sinks a finger into him, and Clark only bother with another before pressing the head of his cock there. Lube mixes with saliva as he presses in. Again, he goes slowly, but this time, he’s not going to stick to cock-warming. István wants a fucking, he going to get a fucking. 

As soon as he can feel István start to relax against him, he grabs István’s hips and starts a rhythm that makes the most amazing sounds come out of Isti’s mouth. It almost makes him regret finding his boxers on the bed and shoving them in István’s mouth, instead. Almost regret, but not quite, because now he’s hitting István’s prostate over and over and the gagged man is actually  _ squeaking. _

Clark thrusts at a brutal pace, that squeak egging him on as his fingers press into István’s hips. Knowing István’s fair skin, he’ll probably bruise, and Clark can’t be sorry at the possessiveness that washes through him at the thought of István wearing his marks. 

István yells beneath him, muffled by the boxers, as he squeezes like a vise around Clark’s dick and comes all over the sheets. His orgasm seems to last forever, his muscles squeezing Clark again and again as he rides it out. Clark doesn’t ever stop fucking, though, putting that constant pressure over István’s prostate until István’s face is flooded with tears again. Hunching over his back, Clark bites down on István’s shoulder as he finally succumbs. He feels tingles down to his toes as he fills István’s hole with his cum, and he can’t help but shudder and groan. 

They collapse on the bed away from the wet mess, chests heaving, István still making small sounds despite his mouth still being stuffed. With a small laugh, Clark removes the boxers and throws them towards his hamper, stroking down István’s side instead. 

“You were so good, sweetie,” Clark murmurs, the hard role play character he’d been acting out receding now that his partner looks so satisfied. 

He pulls out, gently, pressing a kiss between István’s shoulder blades even as he keeps up the praise. 

After a few minutes, István lets out a small sigh, stretching his limbs like a cat might and turning to face Clark. “That was-” István gestures, to encompass the whole room, “-everything. That was perfect.” 

His voice is all fucked out, and Clark turns to get a water bottle. He helps István sit up a little, and lets him have small sips. “How’s your throat? Would you like some honey tea?” 

István looks up at him as if he hung the moon, and Clark’s chest swells with pride. “That would be amazing, please.” 

“You want to shower while I get it ready?” 

“In a minute.” István nuzzles into Clark’s neck, sighing again. When he speaks once more, his voice is very quiet. “Clark, can I...stay?” 

“Stay? Like, the night?”  _ Or forever, maybe, can I interest you in that? _

“Yeah. I’ve got work tomorrow morning so I can be out of your hair-” 

Clark stops him with a kiss. “I’d love if you’d stay.”

István’s eyes light up, and Clark wants nothing more than to chase that look for the rest of his life. Instead, he just kisses István again. “Go take a shower while I make us sleepy tea with honey. And also change the sheets.” 

István smirks against his lips. They help each other up off the bed, taking a moment to stretch, and kiss, and rub each other down, and kiss some more. Clark pulls at the wet sheets as István heads into the bathroom.

Later, when Clark is dolloping honey into mugs, he looks up at the sound of footsteps approaching, and is blown away by István’s magnificence. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I borrowed some gym shorts,” István says, blushing at Clark’s heated look. He is, indeed, wearing a pair of Clark’s oversized gym shorts along with his own purple hoodie, but István makes them look tiny, showing  _ all _ the leg - from his calves, toned from heels, to his sturdy thighs. Smooth, too, like he just recently shaved, and Clark’s cock is valiantly trying to get hard once again. 

“You look way better than I do in them.” 

Smiling, István strolls over and leans against the counter, his eyes doing their own once-over of Clark’s post-coital outfit - another pair of boxer briefs, blue and orange striped this time. “That’s because they hide your ass, and anything that hides your ass is a travesty. Trust me, you should be showing that baby off.” 

It feels overwhelmingly domestic, István teasing him about his clothes as he takes a sip of the tea Clark prepared. Clark never wants the moment to end.

_ God, _ he thinks, as István goes off on one of his tangents that never fail to make Clark laugh,  _ God, I am so fucking screwed. _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this preview - right now this book is like, 5000 words, so it's not going to be done any time soon, but I couldn't help publishing this scene for now. :)


End file.
